Danae pulled back, her stomach hollowing. She had thought the chasm between them would close once she learned her sister’s secret. But as she looked at Alea, the gulf grew wider than ever. To be admired by a god was a high honor, but even if it was true, Danae could find no joy in her heart for what had been done to her sister. And if Alea really was carrying Zeus’s child then she was in grave danger. As infamous as her husband’s fondness for mortal beauty was his wife, Hera’s, vengeance upon those who inflamed his lust.
And there was always the chance that Alea had imagined it all, to protect herself from the terrible truth, that she had been abducted and raped by a shade.
“Let’s keep it between us for now,” Danae said quickly. “You were right not to speak of it, other people might not understand. Even Ma and Pa.”
For a moment she was worried her sister would disagree, but Alea’s face softened and she nodded.
“Our secret.”
The following night, Odell returned home with a bruised jaw and a swollen nose.
“What in Tartarus?” Eleni was immediately upon him, cloth in hand, dabbing at the blood crusted on his lip. “Who did this?”
He did not reply as he gently pushed her away and reached for the amphora of wine beside the hearth.
Danae shared a glance with Alea as her mother grasped his arm.
“Odell. Who struck you?”
Her father loosed a weary sigh and without meeting his wife’s eye muttered, “Calix.”
Danae stiffened.
“What?” Eleni breathed, her grip tightening on her husband’s arm.
“It was a disagreement about fishing territory—it’s nothing.” Odell made another feeble attempt to reach the wine.
“It is not nothing.” Eleni blocked his way, her cheeks flushed. “Our son struck you.”
Calix had not set foot in their hut since the news broke of Alea’s pregnancy. Santos at least had visited a handful of times, but Calix had severed all ties.
Danae glanced at Alea, and her stomach twisted at the tears blooming in her sister’s eyes.
Before the thought had fully taken form, she was on her feet, sprinting from the hut. The sound of her name being called was soon drowned out by the rasp of her breath as she ran along the path that led to the north of the village.
Dusk had spread its indigo wings over the sky by the time she arrived outside Calix’s hut. She hammered on the door.
Her brother opened it, his handsome face falling slack at the sight of Danae, dusty and sweating on his step.
“You shouldn’t be here—”
“How could you?” she spat. “Your own father.”
Hastily he stepped outside and shut the door behind him.
“You have no idea what it’s been like,” he hissed. “I’ve had to work damned hard to rid myself of Alea’s taint just to keep food on the table, and Carissa’s pregnant again.”
“Taint?”
He drew himself up. “Carissa has helped me see the truth. This is our parents’ fault. Both of you should have been married off years ago, not left to roam the island like a pair of Maenads. And Pa taking you fishing, teaching you to spar—it is unnatural, Danae. Unnatural and wrong. It’s a wonder something like this didn’t happen sooner.”
She couldn’t prevent the tears from spilling down her cheeks.
“You abandoned us, your own family.”
“The people inside this hut are my family.” Calix wrinkled his nose. “Go home.”
She tasted metal. She’d bitten down so hard on her lip she’d drawn blood.
